An idea, a thought, an anecdote, a story or a poem a day!

Somehow, after such a stormy start to the day, the afternoon had turned out to be very different. Yes, a contrast to the morning, and the previous evening.  After a lot of commotion, with her son stomping around angry and really upset with her, about the paper she had to sign, and she, lying down, crying and refusing to sign, or to get out of the room, suddenly it was quiet, so quiet that I doubted if anyone other than Babli, sitting on the chair outside in the veranda, was there in the house.  She had refused to sign the paper, that much I knew, but then what had happened, those details, I had no way of knowing, but this much, I had gathered that her son had gone back, yes back from where he had come!  And with him, gone was the heavy atmosphere; and suddenly there was a beautiful light and a peaceful silence.  Peaceful, as after days, Babli was sitting in the veranda, having a cup of tea. She must have asked the cook to get her the tea, because the tray was on...